The cold of the catacombs was a living thing. It coiled around Lin Feng's heart, a constant companion. But the new cold he felt was different. It was the chill of stolen things. Of a vulture in his room.
The Spirit-Gathering Pendant. His mother's hope for a son who could never cultivate. Lin Tao's ticket to greater power. His.
He couldn't go himself. He was a ghost. Seen, he was dead. Or worse, a demonic cultivator to be executed on sight.
But he had eyes that could see in the dark. Hands that made no sound.
He focused on the blue thread in his mind connected to Skeleton #1, his first and most familiar soldier. In the gloom of the bone chamber, the skeleton's head tilted up.
"Go to the main compound," Lin Feng whispered, though words were not needed. Will was enough. "To my old room. See. Report."
The skeleton nodded. It turned and climbed the stairs with eerie, fluid grace, disappearing into the surface night.
Lin Feng sat in the darkness, closing his own eyes. He pushed his consciousness down the tether.
The world swam into view, monochrome and grainy. The skeleton's vision was not human. It saw heat as faint blushes of grey, and the shapes of living Qi as slow, pulsing currents. It was slinking along the shadow of the clan's eastern wall, a bundle of dry bones mistaken for a trick of the moonlight.
It reached the family residences. It scaled a drainage pipe with spider-like ease, coming to a ledge outside a familiar window.
Lin Feng's window.
The room was a wound.
Through the skeleton's eyes, Lin Feng saw his bed stripped bare. His small desk was cleared. His few books and possessions were haphazardly thrown into a wooden crate. Two young clan disciples, Lin Tao's lackeys, were digging through the crate. One held a practice sword Lin Feng had never been strong enough to lift.
"It's not here," the lackey whined.
"It has to be. The corpse was clean when they buried him. Check the floorboards."
And there, in the center of the violated space, stood Lin Tao. He was pacing, his handsome face tight with impatient greed. The current of his Qi was a bright, arrogant swirl of energy in the skeleton's sight—strong, dense. Qi Condensation Stage 4. A world above Lin Feng's meager Stage 1.
"Hurry up," Lin Tao snapped. "Before the little rat hears we're here."
The door flew open.
Lin Mei stood there, her small frame trembling, but not with fear. With rage. Her Qi was a faint, flickering candle next to Lin Tao's torch, but it burned hot.
"Get out," she said, her voice low.
Lin Tao smiled, a slow, ugly thing. "Cousin Mei. We're just securing Feng's things for the clan. You understand."
"You've taken everything else. You will not take this." Her hand was clenched around something at her chest. The faint, emerald glow of concentrated spiritual energy leaked between her fingers. The pendant.
Lin Tao's eyes locked onto it. His smile vanished. "That does not belong to you. It is clan property, allocated to a clan member for cultivation. Feng is dead. It should be re-allocated. To the most promising candidate."
"You poisoned him!" The words burst from her, a raw, painful thing.
Lin Tao's face went perfectly still. The two lackeys froze. The air left the room.
"You have proof of this slander?" Lin Tao asked, his voice dangerously soft. He took a step toward her. "Or is it the hysterical grief of a weak girl? Give me the pendant, Mei. Or I will have to report to the elders that you've been hoarding cultivation resources. That your grief has turned to theft. What will that do to our aunt's standing? To our uncle's fragile authority?"
He was a blade, twisting her love for her parents against her. Lin Mei's defiance wavered. Her hand shook.
Lin Tao saw it. He closed the distance. "Give. It. To. Me."
She shook her head, a tiny, stubborn motion.
He moved fast. His open hand cracked across her face.
The sound was like a branch snapping in the silent room.
Lin Mei stumbled back against the door frame, her cheek flaming red. She didn't cry out. She just looked at him, her eyes wide with a betrayal so deep it had no tears.
Through the skeleton's eyes, Lin Feng saw it all. The grey-blush of heat on his sister's struck cheek. The triumphant, coiled posture of Lin Tao. The world narrowed to that point of violence.
Rage. Not the cold, calculating fury of the tomb. This was a white-hot, blinding inferno. It screamed through the soul-link, a raw command.
DISTRACT THEM!
The skeleton acted.
On the ledge outside, it scraped its rusted sword hard against the wooden window frame. A long, grating SCREEEECH that ripped through the night.
Lin Tao and the lackeys jerked toward the window.
"What was that?"
"Outside!"
All three rushed to the window and threw it open, leaning out. They saw nothing but darkness.
Below the ledge, clinging to the wall, the skeleton waited. As their heads turned away, it moved. It dropped silently to the manicured garden below, landing in a crouch. It picked up a stone and threw it with sharp, brittle force into a stand of decorative bamboo twenty feet away.
Rustle-clatter.
"There!" shouted a lackey.
All three vaulted out the window, giving chase. Lin Tao was fastest, a blur of angry motion.
The skeleton ran. Not with the fluid grace of a living thing, but with a jerky, unnerving speed, its bones clacking softly. It led them on a twisting chase through the moonlit gardens, past serene ponds and over arched bridges. It would disappear behind a rock, reappear farther on, a pale flash in the gloom.
It was leading them away from the residence. Away from Lin Mei.
Back in the room, Lin Mei pushed herself off the door frame. Her hand was still clenched around the pendant. She looked at the open window, at the empty crate, at the ruin of her brother's life. A fierce, desperate intelligence filled her eyes. She didn't hesitate. She slipped out the door and was gone, a shadow merging with deeper shadows.
In the catacomb, Lin Feng's eyes snapped open. He was breathing hard, his fists clenched so tight his nails bit into his palms. The phantom sting of the slap burned on his own face.
The soul-link showed him the skeleton's final maneuver. It had ducked into a narrow gap between a storage shed and the outer wall, pressing its bones flat. Lin Tao and the lackeys ran past, their curses fading into the distance. After a long minute, the skeleton disentangled itself and began its silent journey back.
Lin Feng sat in the crushing dark, the taste of his own impotence like iron on his tongue.
He had watched his sister be struck. And he had sent a distraction. A rattling of bones. He couldn't confront Lin Tao. Not now. In a direct fight, Stage 1 against Stage 4, he would be shattered. His skeletons would be shattered. All would be lost.
The cold fury settled, hardening into a core of diamond resolve.
The skeleton returned, standing before him, awaiting its next order.
Lin Feng looked at his silent soldier. He looked at the other three, standing vigil among the ancient dead. He felt the deep, sluggish river of Death Qi in the chamber.
Passive cultivation here was not enough. It was too slow. Lin Tao was moving, grasping, growing stronger by the day.
A system prompt glowed, responding to his violent intent.
[Combat is the fastest forge for Death Qi. The end of a life releases a concentrated burst. To take a life is to claim its final energy.]
[Skill Available for Unlock: Battle Absorption (Passive). Allows host to drain a portion of the Death Qi released upon the death of a foe.]
[Unlock Cost: 30 Death Qi. Current: 25/30.]
He needed to cultivate more. Just a little more. Then he would stop hiding. Then he would hunt.
He had protected Lin Mei tonight with a trick, a ghost story.
Next time, he would not need tricks.
He would need an army.
"Cultivate," he commanded himself, his voice a dry rasp in the tomb. He closed his eyes, pulling the deep, cold energy of the forgotten dead into his veins. The pain of his burning meridians was a welcome focus. It burned away the helplessness, leaving only purpose.
Above, in the world of the living, his sister hid a pendant, her cheek still throbbing.
Below, in the world of the dead, her brother opened his eyes. They held no grief. Only a gathering storm.